


Ps and Qs

by rusty_armour



Series: Dogsbody [1]
Category: Primeval
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:16:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13591
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusty_armour/pseuds/rusty_armour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lester learns that it might not be so lonely at the top after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ps and Qs

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this as part of the primeval_denial 300-member celebration ficathon. This was only supposed to be a ficlet, but I got a bit carried away…
> 
> © 2009

It all started when that pteranodon escaped from its holding pen and crash landed in Lester's office. Quinn was sure that was the moment Lester snapped. He'd been in a foul mood for days and this had obviously sent him over the edge. That was the only reason he could think of for Lester not taking cover under his desk like a sane person would, choosing instead to put up his umbrella and start lunging at the flying reptile with the snapping beak. Connor, Abby, and Sarah stood outside the broken glass partition and gaped at their boss, completely gobsmacked. Quinn yanked out his radio and called Becker.

In what felt like hours, but was probably only the space of a few minutes, Becker ran up the ramp with a tranquilizer gun and knocked out the pteranodon. Fortunately, Lester's umbrella had suffered the most damage in the attack. The metal frame had been bent completely out of shape, and the fabric had been torn to shreds. Lester stared at the umbrella for an instant in surprise, before dropping it on his desk with a trembling hand.

"Right," Lester said in a voice that was almost steady. "I'll be in the nearest pub if anyone's looking for me."

He was a little put out when he was dragged to the infirmary instead.

"I think he's in shock," Abby whispered as Becker and the attending physician, Dr. Barnes, all but wrestled Lester on to the exam table.

Connor cast a skeptical look at the proceedings. "He seems fine to me."

"I _am_ fine," Lester said. "Why does everyone keep insisting otherwise?" He recoiled when Dr. Barnes shone a light in his eyes and then was batting away a pair of hands when Barnes reached out to unknot his tie. "Do you mind?"

"I need to check for external injuries," Barnes said.

Lester rolled his eyes. "Do I appear to be bleeding?"

"You could have been injured by flying glass and not realized it, sir," Becker said.

Lester gave Becker a pointed glare. "I think I would have felt something, don't you?"

Becker stood his ground. "Not necessarily, sir. Not with an adrenaline rush."

Lester sighed in his most put upon fashion. "Oh, very well, then." He removed his own tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. Then he froze and looked up at Quinn and his team. "Don't you people have work to do?"

Sarah pouted. "We just want to be sure you're okay."

"I'll send out a memo," Lester snapped. "Now shoo. Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to work you go."

Lester didn't send a memo, but Quinn assumed he was fine as he took over the conference room while the glass was being cleared out of his office. Lester was back at his desk by the time Quinn stopped by at 6:00.

"So I gather you didn't make it to the nearest pub," Quinn said.

Lester glanced up from the report he was reading. "No, I never made it out of the ARC. I've been stuck here with you lot and the bloody pteranodon."

Quinn dropped into the chair across from Lester's desk. "I was feeling a bit peckish and thought I might head to the nearest pub myself, if you'd like to tag along."

Lester looked stunned for a second, before managing to cross his arms and raise an eyebrow. "I don't socialize with colleagues and I certainly _don't_ 'tag along' anywhere."

Quinn studied his nails. "No, you just take in colleagues who have been temporarily kicked out of their flats."

Lester's eyes widened in alarm. "How did you…? When did you…?" His eyes narrowed. "I'll kill him."

"Relax, guv," Quinn said. "It slipped out by accident-when Connor was defending you, actually."

Now Lester looked confused. "Defending me?"

"Yeah, Abby and Sarah were complaining yesterday that you were being a right ogre and couldn't be nice if your life depended on it," Quinn said.

Lester gave a nod of approval. "Good. I'm glad to hear that I've been able to maintain my reputation, even without Jenny being around to spin her PR magic."

"Of course, after that, Connor told them that you had done him a favour," Quinn said. "He wouldn't say what it was at first, and even Abby kept quiet, but Sarah managed to squeeze the truth out of him in the end."

Lester scowled. "Literally, I hope. That boy's a hopeless idiot." He gazed down at the file on his desk again. "You realize, of course, that I'm going to have to have you all killed now. It's a pity, really. It's so hard to find decent staff nowadays." His eyes flicked to Quinn. "Well, semi-competent staff, anyway."

"Is it really so terrible for people to think you're nice?" Quinn asked.

"In my line of work, yes," Lester said. When Quinn simply stared at him, Lester added, "You did meet Christine Johnson, right?"

Quinn grimaced. "Point taken."

Lester smiled. "Good. Perhaps I won't have you killed."

"You could buy my silence by buying me a pint," Quinn said. "That way, it will be work-related and you won't be tagging along with me because I'll be tagging along with you."

Lester groaned. "God, you're persistent. You're like a pit bull terrier with a…a dinosaur bone!"

"Look, just come out for a drink," Quinn said. "One drink and I'll leave you alone."

"All right, fine." Lester stood and grabbed his jacket off the back of his chair. "Just one drink, mind."

  


  
&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

  
After Lester had consumed two pints of bitter and a plate of fish and chips at The Red Dragon, Quinn had not only learned that Lester sometimes missed having Connor around but had discovered the reason why Lester had been acting even worse than usual.

"My wife-ex-wife-has started dating other men," Lester said. "Even as we speak, she's out with some bloke her friend set her up with."

_Ah_, Quinn thought. _That explains a lot_. "Well, that's good, isn't it? It's good that she's moving on."

If looks could have killed, Lester had just dispatched a nuclear missile. "It's our wedding anniversary today," he hissed. "The bitch has gone out on a date on our wedding anniversary."

"Uh, shouldn't that be ex-wedding anniversary?" Quinn asked.

"No, it shouldn't," Lester snarled. "Divorce doesn't change the fact that there was a wedding and, hence, a wedding anniversary."

Quinn raised his glass to his lips, shaking his head sadly. "You're still in love with her, aren't you?"

"No, of course not," Lester said. "Well, maybe. Probably. I don't know." He put his head in his hands.

Quinn studied Lester thoughtfully. "You know what I think, mate? I think you're in love with the _idea_ of being in love with her because you're afraid of moving on yourself."

Lester glared at Quinn through his fingers. "Have I had too much to drink or did you just try to feed me a load of pig swill disguised as pop psychology?" he asked. "Pop psychology that is essentially rubbish to begin with. I could get better advice from a fortune cookie. You realize that, don't you?"

Quinn blinked a few times then smiled. "To answer your question, Lester, I don't think you've had nearly enough to drink."

  


  
&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;&gt;

  
When they left the pub some hours later, Lester was only able to walk because Quinn was holding him upright.

"Well, I hope you're happy now, Mr. Extortionist," Lester said. "I'll probably have to buy your silence with several more pints at the local pub for weeks and weeks to come."

Quinn laughed. "Hey, it's not my fault you have to maintain your reputation as the Ebenezer Scrooge of the civil service," he said. "From what you've told me tonight, there were at least a couple of other careers you could have pursued."

Lester turned towards Quinn, his index finger jabbing into Quinn's chest almost painfully. "If you tell _anyone_…"

Quinn winced and pulled Lester's hand away. "As if anyone would believe me!" he said. "Well, they might believe me about the-"

"Quinn," Lester growled.

"Don't worry, Lester. I'll keep quiet…for now." Quinn tightened his grip on Lester's arm, and they managed to make it to the black Mercedes without too much trouble. However, Quinn knew that walking across the parking lot hadn't been the tricky part: getting Lester home would be.

Lester was leaning heavily against the car, peering through one of the windows morosely. "We'll have to call a cab. I can't drive in my ineb-ineb…my drunken condition."

"Or I could drive you home and then call a cab from your place," Quinn suggested.

"Oh, no," Lester said. "No way. No one drives this baby but me."

Quinn shrugged. "It was just a suggestion. I know if it were my Mercedes, I wouldn't want to leave it here overnight. However, I'm sure you know best."

Lester bit his lip and stared at the car, clearly torn. Then he sighed, reached into his jacket pocket, and threw the keys at Quinn. "If anything happens to my car, it's coming out of your wages."

"Fair enough," Quinn said.

He managed to drive the Mercedes without incident, though he had to prod Lester awake a couple of times to get directions to the flat. Then, as he found himself half-carrying Lester to the building, he started to question whether it had been such a fantastic idea to get Lester drunk. He was heavier than he looked and didn't seem to be much good for anything other than passing out. However, Lester got his second wind when they reached his flat, only dropping his keys twice after insisting on opening the door.

"I'm not sure if I should leave you alone," Quinn said when Lester went to sit on the couch and landed on the floor instead.

Lester squinted up at Quinn in confusion. "Why not? I'm all right." He slumped over sideways. "I think I'll sleep here tonight."

"Bloody hell," Quinn muttered. "You can't sleep there, Lester. That's the floor."

"I like the floor," Lester said. "See. It's hardwood." He began stroking the highly-polished surface beside his cheek, and Quinn walked across the living room to haul him to his feet.

"Right. Let's get you to bed." Quinn slung Lester's arm around his neck, and they wove their way down the hall to Lester's bedroom. "You really need to get another flatmate or start dating again. You're not safe left on your own."

Lester tried to twist away from Quinn. "I'm more than capable of looking after myself." When Quinn gave him a look, Lester said, "Well, obviously not right now because I'm pissed, but under normal circumstances…What were we talking about again?"

Quinn led Lester into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. "I think you could really use someone in your life-someone you could be yourself with and not the civil servant."

Lester shook his head. "I'd have to lie and lying doesn't work. My marriage failed because I was keeping too many secrets about work."

Quinn knelt down on the floor and began untying Lester's shoes. "Then maybe you should hook up with somebody at work. You wouldn't have to keep any secrets, then." He heard Lester laugh above him as he pulled off both shoes and rose to his full height again. "What?" he asked when he saw that Lester was still snickering.

"Oh, Danny, I would have thought that you, of all people, would understand," Lester said. "You're a team leader. You know what it's like to have people who work under you, people for whom you're responsible. Well, imagine if you were in charge of the whole ARC and were responsible for _everyone_." Lester flopped back on the bed. "It doesn't exactly help one's dating prospects, does it?"

Quinn gazed down at Lester, hands on his hips. "Come on, it's not as if you're in the military. Surely, there's some leeway."

Lester yawned. "Oh, it's not unheard of, I suppose, but it isn't exactly encouraged either. Besides, even if I wasn't in charge of the Anomaly Project, I'm not what you'd call 'a catch'. I'm a mean old ogre, remember?"

Quinn regarded Lester for a moment in silence then climbed on the bed, straddling him. "You aren't old," he said and leaned down to kiss Lester. Lester gave a panicked squeak and lifted his hands to shove Quinn off him. However, when his hands fell on Quinn's shoulders, they ended up pulling Quinn closer. When the kiss ended, Quinn sat up and Lester gaped at him with wide eyes.

"Are you going to fire me now?" Quinn asked, making no effort to hide his smirk.

Lester tilted his head thoughtfully. "That depends. Do you think I'm an ogre?"

"No," Quinn said, "though you can be pretty mean sometimes."

Lester grabbed Quinn by the front of his shirt and yanked him down again. "Well, as long as that's clear, I don't foresee any problems."

The kiss was enthusiastic at first, with Lester sucking on Quinn's lower lip and exploring Quinn's mouth with his tongue, but then Quinn couldn't help noticing that Lester had stopped being responsive and he was left to do all the work himself. He pulled away from Lester's lips to find that Lester's eyes had slid shut and he'd fallen asleep.

"I suppose my timing could have been better," Quinn whispered. "Sorry about that, mate." He removed Lester's tie and jacket, pulled back the bedspread, and managed to heft Lester under the covers. Then he turned Lester over on his side in case he threw up. Quinn paused at the door, his hand hovering above the light switch.

"You're not going to remember any of this in the morning, are you?" Quinn said. Then he smiled when he realized that there were ways he could remind him.

  



End file.
